Some things you just know
by Violetvixen17
Summary: Somethings you just know, and sometimes you break rules...even your own. Elliot comes to a breaking point in his life, and finally finds the calm to his storm. E/O
1. Chapter 1

Some things you just know….

Like right then Olivia knew that her partner was about to lose it. Working together for eight years had the effect of her being able to read him without trying. The predatory way he paced in the interrogation room, his biceps tight against his dress shirt, and the fuming red rimmed gaze that made even the cocky suspect cringe a little….these were all warning signs. As plain to her as the neon roadwork signs that signaled danger ahead, she watched as Elliot unconsciously sent out every sign. Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, hoping that she was wrong this time. But as she opened them again and watched Elliot slam his palm down on the table as he hollered, it was a futile hope. She looked toward Munch and Cragen who stood watching with her; but neither man seemed concerned.

Sure he may have seemed like any other detective trying to goad a confession out of the man they were sure had raped those women; but Olivia knew how to read his signs better than they did. And as she watched him through the observation glass, she knew that he was teetering on the edge.

Despite her reluctance to admit how well she knew her partner, she knew why. The last week had been a rough one, and this current case had hit closer to home for him. She had known the minute they saw the first body, the blond coed with features similar to Maureen. She had tried to distract him from examining her too closely. But her attempts had been useless and the similarity hadn't been lost on him. His tension grew as the second victim closely resembled the first and Olivia knew he was envisioning his own daughter in their place. It was in the way his he clenched his hands into white knuckled fists as he broke the news to the parents, the way he drank his coffee too hot, hoping the burn it inflicted would distract him from the thought. And now it was in the way he was letting his rage get the better of him as he interrogated their suspect.

Cragen let out a low whistle as Elliot nearly growled when the man spoke. Olivia flicked her eyes at him, knowing that he wouldn't realize until it was too late. She needed to get in there, to diffuse this before Elliot was in trouble with the committee again. The last thing she wanted or he needed was to get suspended again. She moved toward the door, but Munch stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"What are you doing? He's so close."

Olivia hesitated, and regretted it.

Seconds later the man tossed out a sarcastic comment that caused Elliot to come to the end of his short fuse. "Why do you care so much man? You got some pretty little blond at home you're worried about?"

In a lithe move that reminded Olivia of a jungle predator, Elliot was around the table and holding the stupid man by his shoulders, shaking him with a force that had to make the guys teeth rattle. With a curse tossed at Munch for hindering her she launched into the room with both him and the Captain on her heels. The men bellowed their opposition toward Elliot, but Olivia knew he was too far gone to hear any of it. His eyes were raging, the normally bright blue irises now lit with a fire born out of the last two years of hurt, turmoil, confusion, and anger that had surrounded both his professional and personal life. Olivia knew that this time he wouldn't hear; they wouldn't be able to holler him away from the edge. Everyone had a breaking point, and she could feel in her soul that her partner had finally come to his.

Even as his boss and Munch hollered at him to let the man go, Olivia saw Elliot's jaw tighten and his grip intensified, though the shaking slowed. The suspect now looked both angry and panicked as he stared at the cop he had just pushed too far. Olivia knew the guy was guilty, the last eight years had taught her when perps were lying and this guy clearly was both a perp and a liar. But she was more worried about the man who gripped him.

She knew what she needed to do to stop this, but again she hesitated. Things between them had become so complicated. They'd never been simple, from the moment Cragen had introduced them to each other, the undercurrent of their interaction was always there despite how much time, circumstance, and stubbornness had tried to deny it. They had been through so much, adding more and more layers of complexity to them both and to what smoldered unspoken between them. Touching was dangerous, to both of them and to their position. They avoided it at almost all costs, and even when they dared it was always with a layer of clothing between, and always fast. Never did they let a touch linger.

But some things you just know…and sometimes you break rules, even your own.

"El…." Olivia reached out a shaky hand and laid it upon the tense muscle of his forearm. His skin felt like it was on fire, and she wasn't surprised. He exuded heat in everything he did, why not physically as well? She felt his movement stop as her fingers settled on him, but he didn't drop his hold….she knew she would have to go all the way this time to bring him back. She raised her other hand and let it fall on him as well, closing her fingers over his arm.

He'd gone too far, he knew it the moment the man spoke. This case had had him on edge since its discovery and right there in the interrogation room at the precinct, he had shown this man why. No one but Olivia had known his particular drive for finding this guy, she was the only one that had seen how the victims all resembled his eldest daughter; the daughter who he'd barely seen as of lately, so busy with college and her internship. As he felt himself lunge for the man's throat, he knew he'd possibly just jeopardized the entire investigation. But it was as if he was looking down on himself unable to affect his own actions or to stop it. Adrenaline coursed through his veins like heroin and fueled the rage that he always struggled to keep in check.

In that moment, as he shook the idiot by the shoulders, everything in his life bubbled up to the surface. His divorce, his moment of weakness with Kathy, the pregnancy, the baby that he'd fathered that night, the long nights of trying to sleep at home beside her but still feeling as if he didn't belong there, the hurt that had taken him over when Olivia had left for Oregon, the numbness he'd inflicted on himself because it was easier than feeling….then this current case and this bastard who violated and slaughtered girls that looked like his own daughters….. All of it raced through his mind. No longer held in check, his rage simmered, popped, boiled. Red spots blinked in front of his eyes and he no longer saw the man cowering under his hold. He only saw the anguish he'd been suffocating in for the last year, and without a logical thought in his head, he started to shake him.

Seconds felt like hours as he let the rage overtake all sanity. He vaguely heard the voices of Munch and the Captain yelling his name, demanding he let go. _Let go?_ _He'd already done that…. _The rage was loose now_. He'd let it go_…and now it was holding onto him, shaking him much like how he was doing to the suspect. Elliot felt as if the rage was another entity entirely, one that was now holding the logical side of him hostage as it battled for control. He was letting it win, something he'd vowed never to do.

But then another_'never'_ happened. Olivia touched him.

Whenever he'd found himself imagining her touch, he'd tried to convince himself that her hands would be rough. Rough from the mountains of paperwork they did, from the countless cups of hot coffee they drank; from the times they'd had to get physical with perps, from all the times she'd had to clench her hands around her gun…. But as her fingers closed over his arm he knew he'd never felt anything softer than her touch.

It was insane to think that the emotion that was drowning him could be calmed by adding more. But as she touched him, and her hands lingered, not pulling away sharply as they normally did whenever the two accidentally came into contact; more feelings bombarded him. Desperate need, heat, want, and underneath the storm was the sense that he'd finally found his center. She was the calm to his storm and he grabbed onto that notion like the drowning man that he was.

"Elliot, let him go. Please." Her voice broke through the roar in his ears, and the rage began to ebb. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to savor the feel of her hand on him, for just another second. As he opened his eyes, the room came back into focus; Cragen and Munch staring at him, the suspect still dangling from his grip, and Olivia….watching him intently. His eyes flicked over the sight of her hands still on him, and with a small shudder, he let the suspect drop back into the chair.

They were all staring at him, the perp, Cragen, Munch, all except her. Her eyes were closed, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The sight made him tremble; it was a face that he'd imagined her making….in his hidden fantasies. He'd envisioned her like that, only with her head tipped back, her calling his name in the dark. The memory caused him to shiver and he wondered if she felt it. He wanted her to look at him, to focus that haunting dark gaze on him. But he didn't move and stayed silent, calling to her only in his mind. _Look at me Olivia….. Just look at me._

In a flash everyone came back to life, Munch dragging the shaken perp from the room, Cragen hollering at him to pull himself together. He looked up just in time to catch the captain giving him a frustrated glare before stomping from the room back to his office, leaving him alone except for Olivia who had yet to move. Elliot had dropped his arms back to his sides in defeat after he'd finally regained control. Neither moved nor spoke for a moment, both trying to come to terms with what had just happened. But his heart was still thudding against his ribs, and his blood still raced; not because of the scene he'd just made….but because she was still holding onto him.

She knew she should let go, to step back, to follow after Cragen and Munch, to try and convince the perp not to press charges against her partner. But her body wouldn't obey all the "shoulds" that her mind commanded, instead she stayed rooted to the spot, still holding onto him. Her heart pounded and she was hesitant to look at him, scared of what she'd see, scared he'd shake her hand off, tell her to leave him alone, to never touch him again.

Elliot made a small sound in his throat and turned to look at her. Turbulent blue met uncertain brown and finally Olivia found her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am now. I don't know what happened." His voice was strained, but not like before. This time it sounded like he was struggling to use it, instead of control it.

Every sentence she could think to start died before it left her mouth. Nothing seemed right. And as much as she wanted to say something to fill the empty space, she couldn't think of anything that would do it justice. Her mind spun its gears as she tried to think clearly. But the heat of his skin that burned under her fingers was distracting. She felt as if she were thawing out, the cold wall that she kept around her heart beginning to drip and run as it melted. This was why touching was dangerous. She'd worked hard to build that wall, to defend it. And now with one touch he was invading her fortress.

"El…" she breathed his name hoping it would help jar her back to reality. Back to the safe haven that was their normal interaction, back to where she kept herself wrapped in a cloak of numbness because it was the only way she knew how to cope. But even as she closed her eyes and summoned her courage to pull away, she knew that it would take her days to forget her brush with his fire.

As she pulled her hand from him, Elliot felt the loss. He looked up; searching for her eyes; to find the calm that she always provided him. Her touch had dissipated the rage and had left confusion and desire in its wake. But before he could say anything or find solace in her face, she turned and strode from the room. He wanted to call out to her, to drag her back and demand that they finally answer the questions that lingered between them, the questions that his mind now pounded with.

_ Why was it that she was the only one who could bring him back? Why was she able to do what no one else, not even Kathy or his children had been able to? What did that mean?_

But he knew he couldn't do that, couldn't ask her, he had no right.

Because of the gold band on his finger.


	2. Chapter 2: Drunken Desperation

Olivia stared hard at the shot glass of tequila that had been taunting her for the last hour. The movie she'd rented droned on in the background, filling her apartment with the kind of mindless noise that was just enough to keep her from feeling as alone as she was. She couldn't even remember the plot of the movie, she'd paid little attention to it since she'd come home. She'd been trying to talk herself into downing that shot; despite the fact that she normally stayed away from hard liquor. The smell reminded her too much of her mother, of all the unpleasantness that alcohol had brought into her childhood. It also took away her control when she drank, and that was dangerous. Everything in her life rested on her keeping that control, keeping everything she was juggling going….but sometimes, she needed the freedom to let it all fall.

"This is ridiculous…" she muttered, reaching for the small glass and tossing the liquid down her throat in one smooth move. It burned as it went reminding her again why she rarely drank it. She closed her eyes for a moment, but in the blackness she saw his face again. Saw the twitch in his jaw when she'd laid her hand on him, and remembered that small second where she'd fervently hoped that it was because her touch affected him as much as it did her.

"Elliot…." She whispered his name and rubbed at her forehead. She opened her eyes in time to see the last few moments of her video. The two leads running through a crowded airport as they realized that they were meant to be together, not apart. Olivia sighed as she watched the two lovers embrace. Without thinking she poured another shot and downed it, then another.

_I'll never have that moment_…. She thought as she reached for the remote to turn off the scrolling credits. She poured the next shot slowly as her mind taunted her. _He'll never….I could never… impossible… _the burn wasn't as bad now on the fourth shot. It reminded her of how hot his skin had been, and how for a moment she'd dared to feel.

Her cell phone chirped then, jerking her from her thoughts. Feeling less like herself than she had an hour ago, she reached for it. His name flashed on the caller ID, incoming text message. Of course…. But she opened it anyway.

**You up? **

** Yea.**She responded.

** Want company? **

A shiver ran down her spine before she could stop it. It was nearly 1 am and she knew that this was dangerous. But the alcohol muffled the normal logic that told her to say no. With a shrug she typed in a response.

**Why not? **

Olivia jumped as a knock sounded on her door immediately. It took her a moment to process before she began to laugh, realizing he must have known her answer before he asked. She got up slowly, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. Not caring that her hair was mussed or that she was clad in oversized flannel pajamas, she jerked the door open.

Elliot stood, leaning against her doorframe. She smirked.

"How'd you know I'd say yes?" She asked.

"Didn't. Hoped." Those two words rang in her ears, the second one echoing like a gong through her soul. Did he mean? But Olivia regained the small shred of sanity she was hanging onto and shook her head. Of course he didn't. Life was never so simple.

Elliot walked past her into the apartment and immediately noticed the bottle and empty shot glass on the coffee table. His brow lifted in a surprised smirk…..Olivia, his Olivia normally didn't drink, and even when she did….tequila wasn't her style. He smiled as he recalled the few times they'd gone out with the crew to bars after work; remembering just how long it took her to nurse a single beer dry. But judging from the amount of liquid left in the bottle…she'd been going faster on this. And it worried him.

She shut the door and sauntered back to her couch, flopping down onto the cushions, her eyes slightly unfocused as she pondered the bottle again. Elliot stared at her, knowing that his reasons for coming here to her place had just been trumped. His lame apology for his anger that afternoon could wait… discovering exactly just what had pushed his normally level headed partner to down half a bottle of tequila in an evening would not. And unfortunately Elliot had a sinking feeling that deep down, he knew the reason, but it wasn't going to be one either of them wanted to face.

He cautiously walked over to sit on the other end of the couch, biting his lip as Olivia leaned forward to slowly pour herself another shot. He took in her pajama clad form, the baggy flannel pants that looked way too large for her trim frame contrasted with a tanktop that hugged every perfect curve of her torso. He'd always thought she had a great body, early on he'd told himself that it was solely appreciation, but sometime in the last few years that had changed whether he wanted to admit it or not. Appreciation had gone through some changes in those years, to admiration, to fantasy provoking, to the flat out desire that now surged through his veins as he stared. Her hair fell forward into her face as she leaned forward to reach for the now full shot glass.

Elliot frowned. She'd already had too much; it was in her lazy posture and glassy eyes, in the way she hadn't much questioned his appearance at her apartment late at night, and in the way that he knew she was going to regret it in the morning.

Some things you just know….Elliot knew that she had saved him that afternoon at the station, now it was his turn to do the same. He reached out and gently caught her wrist in his hand. Olivia's head turned to look at him, despite her languid state, she still managed to look surprised. Elliot offered her a small smile, and reached for the shot glass with his other hand.

"Why don't you let me have this one?" He said softly, trying to keep his true intentions hidden behind the sarcastic tone in his voice. Without letting go of her wrist, he grabbed the glass and quickly downed the shot, grimacing a little as the alcohol burned down his throat.

As he relaxed again, his focus centered on the fact that she hadn't pulled her hand from his hold, that his fingers still encircled her slender wrist. Like earlier, it sent a pleasant jolt through him as he processed to softness of her skin against his fingers. Absentmindedly he rubbed his thumb over the inside of her wrist, trying to squelch the roar inside him that wanted to feel more of her skin under his hands.

"Elliot…."her whisper was so quiet that he almost wasn't sure she spoke at all. But he lifted his eyes to find her watching him with glassy eyes. For so long, he'd wanted to have the freedom to lose himself there; to let the chocolate brown depths swallow him until all his cares were forgotten He still wasn't free, not yet…. But he couldn't bring himself to let go.

Olivia felt her world spinning, the only constant being Elliot as he sat before her. He alone seemed immune to the phenomenon that was making her apartment whirl around her like a cyclone. Through the haze and confusion her brain tried to remind her that staring at Elliot wasn't allowed, not anymore. Not since things had changed. It used to be that looking at him could help her find answers to plaguing cases. They would look at each other over their desks in comfortable silence, until one of them found the answer to the current problem. But now, those answers were still there to be found, but they had stopped asking the questions, because the questions had become too complicated.

She heard his name fall from her mouth, and the skin where his thumb was lazily rubbing a circle seemed as if it was on fire. The feeling of melting came over her again. It had been so long since she'd been warm inside. Now with the alcohol heating her mind, and Elliot's fingers burning her skin it was too much. Her ice fortress was melting too fast, threatening to spill from her eyes. She sighed brokenly, and closed her eyes to hold it back.

Her entire world seemed to narrow down to where Elliot was touching her. Part of her wondered if this was how he'd felt when she had touched him in the precinct. Did she dare hope that when his world had been spinning, that she'd been his touchstone? A sob threatened to tear from her, and one thing she managed to remember, was that she didn't want to cry in front of him. She tried to stand, to pull away, but it was too fast and the whole room lurched to the side.

Strong arms were around her instantly and she found her face pressed against the solid wall of his chest. His scent dizzied her further, and despite her previous thoughts of escaping him, she knew that if he let go now she wouldn't be able to hold herself up.

"Liv?" She felt his voice rumble her name. She knew she was supposed to say something back, but she couldn't remember what. Instead she clung to him, closing her eyes to block out the room that wouldn't stop spinning.

Elliot watched as Olivia yanked her hand from his grasp and tried to stand. Too quickly, he watched her sway for a moment before he stood up to catch her against him before she hurt herself. The movement nearly was his undoing. As she collapsed her curves pressed against him, and the scent of her perfume filled his senses. Silently he wondered how much temptation he was strong enough to handle; and he wondered what he was even doing there. Alone, in his partners apartment in the middle of the night, with a drunken Olivia cradled against his chest…. Kathy would kill him, Cragen would be steaming.

Her voice cut through his inner turmoil. "Dizzy."

"Tequila will do that to you Liv." He tried to keep his words light. She made no move to try and stand on her own.

"That's why I normally don't drink it." She said slowly, her forehead still pressed against his chest.

Looking down at the top of her head, Elliot tightened his hold on her slightly. "So why were you doing it tonight?"

She didn't answer for a moment. "I wanted to feel it again."

He didn't understand. "What? Drunk?"

She shook her head gently. "Warm."

Elliot felt his heart ache for her as she uttered the one word. Anyone else he might have thought they only meant the physical temperature, but not Olivia. For better or worse, he understood her inside and out. He knew the cold walls she built to keep everyone out. He watched her defend her frozen fortress to every invader who'd come near over the years; so scared of losing the numb protection that she'd grown accustomed to. He felt her body tremble and without seeing her face he knew she'd started to cry.

As it all whirred through his mind and the ache deepened until it threatened to suffocate him, he tightened his hold on her, hauling her up against his chest so he could embrace her.

"Oh God Liv…it's okay. I know."

She smelled so good, and he wanted to focus on that, but her pain trumped his attraction to her by a mile. Elliot felt her arms wrap around him as she trembled against him. The simple gesture tore at him. Olivia Benson didn't cry, at least not where anyone could see her. It was important to her to retain her tough lady cop exterior, she worried that crying communicated weakness. Despite her tipsy state, the fact that she was letting him see her this way said volumes. Her softness against him seemed to fill in all the cracks that had been paining him over the last two years. He wanted to pour his heart out to her, to tell her that she wasn't alone, that he understood, that he was there for her. But he stayed silent, content just to hold her as she cried.

The moment they stood there embracing seemed to last an eternity. But soon Elliot felt her weight slack against him the slightest bit more and he knew that she wasn't going to last much longer standing upright. The tequila had worked its job on her already. Slowly Elliot bent to sweep his arm under her knees and lift her into his arms. She didn't protest as he carried her back to her bedroom. It was darker here, but he could make out her bed in the dim light. He laid her down and pulled her comforter over her. He knelt next to the bed and stared at her face. She didn't open her eyes, but he could see the silver tracks on her cheeks still. He wanted to wipe them away but was scared that if he touched her again he'd lose his grip on the small thread of sanity that was serving him.

"It's gonna be okay Liv." He said softly. She was already beginning to doze off, the alcohol speeding her way, evening her breaths.

Elliot watched her a moment more then began to speak, the darkness and the liquor he'd drank making him bold. "Liv….I know you won't remember this tomorrow….maybe that's what makes it easier. I just want you to know…." His voice caught on the words. He'd thought them for so long that saying them out loud was almost surreal. Even if she was asleep and couldn't hear him…it was still hard. "You saved me today at the station. I don't know how, but you did. You always do."

"You're…. god….Liv…I know you're hurting. I want to be the one to save you.… you don't know how much I wish that."

She rolled toward him, her hand open and now dangling off the side of the bed. Elliot gave in to the urge to touch her again, against his better judgment. There was no going back from all of this. He lifted his hand to softly press it against hers, palm to palm. A shiver raced over him. They'd spent too long running from it, from each other…..and he was done.

"Soon, Liv." He murmured, before standing up to let himself out and go home.

She moaned a little in her sleep as he walked away, and damned if he didn't hear his own name come from her. He stopped. It echoed in his ears and he knew that he would continue to hear it echoing inside him long after he left her apartment.


	3. Chapter 3: Morning After

The lights were on in the kitchen when Elliot finally made it home that night. As he let himself in quietly, he mentally prepared for whatever was to come. With it being so late, he'd expected everyone to be sleeping, but as he locked the door behind him, he heard rummaging in the kitchen. He walked in to find Kathy rummaging through cabinets. He leaned against the doorjamb and sighed as his eyes raked over her familiar frame. Her blond hair was falling loose from the ponytail she'd had it in, and as she stood on her toes to see the higher shelf, her nightshirt rose a little, revealing a pair of his boxers she'd borrowed to sleep in. As he watched her, he felt the familiar emotion that they'd always shared. It was warm and comforting, much like Kathy herself. After twenty odd years together, they'd learned the dance of how to interact, they'd raised four beautiful children, and built this life for themselves. But as Elliot watched her….her pretty blue eyes intent on finding whatever she was looking for, he also felt the distance that had been growing between them.

"You're up late." He spoke finally, smirking a little as his wife spun her head his direction.

"I'd say the same, but it's normal for you." She returned, the slightest shadow darkening the blue of her eyes before she turned back to the cabinet. "Where were you?"

Elliot didn't answer, and Kathy didn't seem to expect him to. "Is she okay?"

He bristled at her psychic moment, then tried to feign ignorance, though he knew it was a losing battle. "What?"

"Olivia. Is she all right?" Kathy opened another cabinet and kept her face turned away from him. Her voice was tired, with a brittle undertone.

Elliot leaned against a nearby counter, and sighed. "No, she's not. How did you know?"

"Cause it's you." She said simply. "Is she hurt?"

_Yes, though she'll never admit it._ "Not really. She'll be fine."

"Good." Kathy finally found what she'd been looking for, a half empty peanut butter jar. She pulled it out and turned her attention toward the toast she'd laid out on the counter. Her movements were slow and methodical, as if following a preset course. It unnerved Elliot for a reason he couldn't name. She spoke again then, her words ripping over his spine like a frozen breeze. "That's what matters isn't it?"

Elliot clenched his jaw. This moment had been a long time coming, and though he hadn't expected it to come tonight, on the heels of his encounter with Olivia… he prepared himself for the battle.

"Kathy?" The knife slipped from her fingers and clattered noisily onto the counter. Her hands came up to grip the countertop, until her knuckles went white.

Elliot stood up straighter_, here we go_….

"Just don't Elliot, okay? Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't do what you always do." She turned then to face him, the blue of her eyes now icy. "Don't tell me it's nothing, and don't give me some speech about duty, family, or responsibilities. We both know that those words aren't what the problem is." Her voice was even and her words sounded rehearsed, making Elliot wonder how long she too had been anticipating this conversation.

"What should I say then?"

She met his gaze then, the two sets of blue eyes battling it out. "Say what we both know is the truth. For once Elliot…..be honest with yourself, and me." She paused, letting her gaze drop to the floor. "You're a good man, and we've been together a long time. So long that I thought it was enough…all that history. I thought it, and the new baby would be enough to see us through whatever would come along. I was wrong Elliot."

As he stood there, listening to the words he thought neither of them would be brave enough to say, unfamiliar emotions rustled through him. Part of him wanted to argue with her, to promise to stay, the logical part. But a larger part of him seemed to sag with relief, the weight that her honesty was lifting was substantial.

"Kathy…. I…."

"Don't." She cut him off. "Don't say anything, unless it's to tell me the truth."

He chewed his lip, dropping his arms from his chest to grip the pocket of his jeans. "What truth do you want Kathy?"

"The one that'll set you free." Her voice caught ever so slightly as she walked toward him. As he stared into her face, he knew that they had crossed a line. Pretending was not going to cut it anymore. But the honesty she was demanding could be damaging, and he didn't want to hurt her anymore than his distance already had.

"Kathy, I …..we can't….."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Finish it Elliot."

"We can't do this,"

She opened her eyes and finished the sentence. "Anymore."

Elliot felt the loss as he realized the finality of this discussion. He almost couldn't believe it was happening. This night was shaping up to be the biggest emotional rollercoaster he'd been on in quite some time.

"I love you Elliot. But we both knew this was coming. And the more I've thought about it…the more I think that if we're finally honest and just call it like it is…that we might even be able to forgive each other…" She said softly.

"I love you and the kids. I don't want to be shut out of their lives again."

"You won't be, I promise. It'll be different. The door is open this time, whenever you want to see them,….because this time it's for the right reasons."

Silence settled between them for a long few moments as Elliot let everything she was saying sink in. In some ways it felt like when she'd left before, but not as painful. This was more of a reminiscent ache, for what they'd been before. But as they stood there in the kitchen, he realized what she was trying to tell him. They were so far from where they'd been twenty years ago, they were practically different people, and trying to fit into the mold of who they were before, was never going to work.

"Are you going to be all right?" He forced himself to ask.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. It hurts ….but not as much as knowing that you're settling for something here…something that will never be….what you need."

Elliot swallowed over the growing lump in his throat, and reached out then to pull her to him. She came to him willingly, but the fit wasn't as right anymore. This hug was worlds away from where they had started, and even from where they'd ended before. This hug was an ending and a new beginning.

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

Olivia groaned as her ringing telephone awoke her. The normally unassuming sound seemed to thunder through her head as it demanded attention. Without lifting her head from the pillow she reached out for the phone on her nightstand. Hoping that whoever this was had a good reason for calling her this early, she clicked it on and pulled it to her ear.

"Benson."

His chuckle surprised her. "Elliot?" She groaned.

"I told you tequila would kill ya." He laughed, but as much as she enjoyed the sound of his mirth, her head was pounding.

"Look to your right Liv." He murmured. She was hesitant to follow his instructions as it meant opening her eyes to the morning light that was slating through her blinds. But she did so. Two excedrin sat on a napkin next to a bottle of water, and despite her headache Olivia smiled. Of course he'd known.

"You're welcome." His voice came again through the phone, and she cursed inwardly at the small flutter it elicited from her heart. She pulled herself into sitting up and reached for the water and medicine.

Quickly she downed the two pills with a swig of water, then laid back down, pulling the comforter over her head to shut out the light. She tried to remember what had happened the night before, but it was fuzzy. The only clear memory was of Elliot being in her apartment, holding her….and Olivia wondered if she'd dreamt it.

"Are you at the station?" She asked, cradling the phone receiver between her cheek and the pillow.

"No." He sounded as if he was juggling the phone as he worked on something. "I might go down there later to finish up the paperwork on that case."

Olivia was quiet for a moment. "Why the call then, El?"

"Wanted to make sure you were all right." His tone changed subtly.

"I'm fine." She lied, suddenly wanting to be off the phone, and free of this awkward conversation.

"I meant it Liv." He said quietly, the rustling in the background stilling.

"Meant what?"

"You were asleep. I just wanted you to know that I meant it."

"Elliot, what are you talking about?"

"I'll tell you sometime." And with that the line clicked off, leaving Olivia wondering about the cryptic message her partner had just laid on her.

EOEOEOEOEOEO

Elliot hung up the phone just before he almost dropped the box he was carrying, back into his apartment. The landlord had given him a strange look when he'd called about re-renting it, after he'd only moved out a few months ago. But the check he handed the man silenced the unspoken questions and here he was, making endless trips up and down the stairs again to unload his belongings. Most of his clothes he'd bagged up in trash bags to make the move quicker and simple. He made another trip, dragging two of these up the stairs, just as he reached his doorway he heard footsteps behind him. His cop instincts peaked as he glanced over his shoulder, but he wasn't prepared for the familiar giggle.

"Gosh Daddy, trash bags?" Maureen laughed as she came to a stop a few feet behind him.

"What are you doing here?" He was more than surprised. His eldest daughter normally was in class at Hudson at this time of day. She looked so grown up it pained him, knowing that he'd missed out on large chunks of her growing up, while he'd been busy with work. Now she stood in the hallway, dressed in form fitting khakis and a sweater, looking all the part of an ambitious young coed.

"Professor cancelled class, Lizzie called me. Looks like I guessed right." She smirked, her hand resting on her hip, keys dangling from one finger.

"Right about what?"

"That you were moving back here." Maureen sauntered forward to help him with one of the bags, just as a nearby door opened and a younger man walked out. Elliot sighed as the man looked at Maureen with an appreciative smile.

"You moving in?"

"No, she's not." Elliot said flatly, giving the man a look that he normally reserved for perps.

"Sorry man." The man grumbled, before locking up and heading down the stairs.

Maureen slapped his arm and rolled her eyes. "That was rude."

"Excuse me if I don't like my new neighbor ogling my first born. Are you gonna help or what?" He gestured toward the door at the end of the hall where he'd been heading.

"Sure." Maureen followed his lead into the apartment, dragging the bag into the bedroom. She immediately ripped it open and laughed as she saw some of his many suits balled up with a wad of hangers. "You're going to need to invest in an iron."

Elliot chuckled. "Nah, I'll hang them in the bathroom next time I shower. Steam oughta get the wrinkles out."

"You're hopeless Dad." Her voice still held a hint of joking, but Elliot picked up on the undertone. He leaned against the doorframe as he watched her straighten his clothes and start hanging them up in the closet. But he could tell she'd come here for a reason other than ragging on him about his moving etiquette.

"Maureen….talk."

She pressed her lips together into a thin line as she shook out one of his dress shirts, and Elliot was struck by a feeling of familiarity as her eyes sought his. He'd always assumed that Maureen was Kathy all over again, all that blond hair and book smarts; but as he met her gaze he saw underneath. Her blue eyes had changed at some point over the last few years, and while he hadn't been looking his baby girl had gone and embraced some of his genes. He saw bits of himself in her expression, and oddly enough it comforted him. She hitched up her shoulder in a half shrug before blowing out a sigh.

"You and Mom finally talk?" She reached for another shirt.

"Yeah, we did."

Maureen was quiet for a moment before the corner of her mouth pulled up in the same crooked smile he saw in the mirror most days. "It's about time Dad."

Elliot stiffened at her words. He remembered a night when she'd been in high school and had said something similar. She'd known back then that there was problem. She was more observant than he gave her credit for.

"I know." He walked over to help her with the clothes, hanging them up in the closet as she handed them to him.

This was a world of different from when he'd moved in here before, unwillingly. Kathy and the kids had left him that time, he'd been too blind to see what they'd been trying to tell him, and too distant to be able to salvage anything in time. He'd moved in here alone before, dejectedly dragging his things in like a child who'd been sent to their room. This time he felt good about it, like it was time. And having Maureen here helping him merely solidified what Kathy had said the night before…. This time it was going to be all right.

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

Olivia set down the bag of groceries to grab her cell phone from her pocket. Flipping it open she juggled it between her ear and her shoulder as she tried to put the food into the refridgerator.

"Benson."

"Olivia, it's Cragen. Sorry to call you in on your day off…but Munch got hung up in court and we just caught a case. Can you partner with Fin for a few hours?"

"Of course."

"Okay, get down here then. I promise I'll let you have 2 days off in a row as soon as we catch a dry spell."

Cragen didn't say goodbye before hanging up, which was usual.

Olivia finished putting away her groceries and gathered up her jacket, badge, and gun. Her head still pounded a little from the night before, but she'd worked with far worse. Inside she wanted to hole up in her apartment and kick herself for showing weakness in front of Elliot. She'd been tired, drunk, and vulnerable….he couldn't have picked a worse time to show up unannounced. It killed her that she'd cried in front of him, and even worse that she'd gone from tears to nearly passing out in his arms.

As she locked up and headed downstairs, she bit her lip as she realized that what bothered her most about all. Her footfalls slowed to crawl until she was motionless on the landing. Suddenly she felt as if the air in the room had thinned. In the back of her mind, the sensation was reminiscent of when she'd inhaled that chemical in the apartment building. Like her lungs were constricting, like all the air in the world wouldn't be enough to help her breathe easier. She leaned her forehead against the wallpaper, wanting her numbness back...wanting the comfort of not being able to feel anything. But the notion slammed her with every beat of her heart, and it wasn't going away. What bothered her the most about last night... was that she_ liked_ it.

She'd liked his strong arms holding her up, she'd enjoyed the notion of being taken care of when she'd woken up and seen the Tylenol and water glass. And what stabbed deeper was that she'd loved the feeling she'd allowed herself to have for just a moment…. of falling.


	4. Chapter 4: Reckless

Part 4

"Olivia!" Fin's shout came a moment too late. She was down on the ground, after taking a punch or two that would have made a grown man's head spin. But the suspect had chosen the wrong direction to run, and Fin grabbed him. As soon as he had the guy down on the ground and cuffed, he looked toward where he'd seen Olivia fall. She was lying on the concrete, on her back….. He knew she hadn't been shot, as the guy hadn't had a weapon but his hackles still went up as he quickly jogged over to her.

"Liv?" He knelt by her side and was relieved to see that she was semi-conscious and breathing. He touched her shoulder. "C'mon Benson….wake up."

She let out a groan as her head moved slowly. She lifted her cheek from the asphalt to look up at him, and Fin couldn't stifle his reaction.

"Your partner's gonna have my ass." Fin muttered, as he helped her sit up. Her face was banged up from where the perp had slugged her, and he didn't doubt that she was going to have a black-eye to go with her busted lip. Her cheek was scraped from hitting the concrete and he hoped that she didn't have a concussion.

Pain shot through her as Fin helped her sit up. She heard him mutter something about getting in trouble, but it was his face as he looked at her that drove it home. His eyes darted around over her sore cheek, down to where she tasted blood on her lip. She closed her eyes for a moment, playing the moment over in her mind. She'd been careless…trying too hard. She should have waited for Fin, but her adrenaline had been pumping and all afternoon she'd been doing everything to keep herself focused on the case; keeping her head in the game instead of dwelling on the turmoil inside.

It all added up to her letting the rage get the better of her as the man had come flying down the alley. She'd given herself up to the heat of her anger as she'd flung herself into the guys' path. He was bigger than she was, having a good six inches and sixty pounds on her. In her haste she'd forgotten to draw her weapon, and by the time she went for it…it was too late. He'd probably have done more damage had the sirens' not spooked him. As it was he'd danced around her a moment before slamming his fist into her face twice and then running.

"Liv….what were you doing?" Fin finally asked the question that she was mulling over. He helped her back to the car and helped her get seated carefully on the passenger's side.

"I'm not sure." She mumbled in answer, then looked up at his concerned expression. "It look that bad?"

"Bad enough that Elliot's gonna use me as a punching bag when he sees it." Fin smirked.

&&&&&&&&&&&

"What the hell happened?!"

Both Liv and Fin looked up sharply at Cragen's roar. Olivia cursed inwardly, she'd hoped to be able to get to bathroom and clean up a little before having to face the Captain. But it was too late now; he'd glimpsed her as they'd gotten off the elevator. Fin shadowed her closely as she moved toward her desk and sat herself on the edge. Her head ached both from the punches and from where she'd smacked into the ground. Cragen's shoes quickly came into view as she stared at the cracked linoleum. She could tell from his stance, even before she looked up, that he wouldn't be put off.

"It's my fault Cap…." Fin began, but then faltered off as Cragen shot him a death glare that clearly said he wasn't in the mood for any lame covering.

"Olivia?" His voice softened a little and she watched as his hand reached out to lift her chin so he could get a good look at her face. She still hadn't looked in a mirror, but from the dull throb that had taken up residence around her left cheek she knew that it probably wasn't pretty. Fin had wanted to call a bus for her, but she'd insisted that it wasn't necessary when she'd just been slugged, not stabbed or shot.

"Damn…." Cragen whispered, his voice now devoid of anger and sounding only worried. She watched as his eyes narrowed, taking in her bloody lip, the swelling that made it hard to open her left eye all the way. But worst of all was when he met her gaze, she felt as if he could see what she'd done, the mistake she'd made. Her fear moved into her throat to form a lump that she couldn't swallow over. Finally he seemed satisfied with whatever answer he'd found and he jerked his head toward where Munch sat, watching the encounter with a shocked expression.

"John….help Olivia get cleaned up."

"Cap….I can do it…." She fumbled, but his glare silenced her.

"Help her get cleaned up, and then take her home." Cragen's voice was even and controlled. Olivia was suddenly afraid. She'd rather he bawl her out about her bad decision, yell at Fin for letting her do it, anything but the deadly calm that he showed.

Munch rose from his desk to obey orders, but was hesitant to get between the two.

Cragen leaned in and muttered his next words quietly. "Did it solve anything?"

She couldn't move as he stared her down. "I didn't think so. Go get your head together Olivia…. I don't want to see you for a week."

&&&&&&&&&&

"So you gonna spill?" John asked as he handed her a damp washcloth to wipe the dried blood off her lip.

"I got slugged by a perp…what's to tell?" She tried to shrug it off. But Munch was a good detective and she'd known him for too long.

"Cap didn't buy that, and neither do I." John applied antiseptic to a piece of gauze and dabbed at her scratched cheek. His touch was more tender than she'd expected from the lanky older man.

"I screwed up." She said softly.

"Yeah, I got that."

"Do you think he's gonna let me go?" She asked, as Munch wrapped a cold pack in a dry cloth and handed it to her to hold against her swelling eye. His expression was mixed and she couldn't read it. She wondered if that was the reason he preferred his glasses tinted, so he could hide his thoughts behind the dark lenses.

He was quiet for a moment, as he cleaned up the first aid kit and set it back on the shelf. Then he turned to offer her a hand, his mouth curved up in a smirk.

"Who'd put up with Stabler if he did?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Cragen watched from his office as Olivia reluctantly let John lead her back the elevators. She held an ice pack against her face. It had taken the wind out of him when he'd seen her face all beat up. Fin had tried to take the blame, but he wasn't ignorant. Olivia Benson had been fixture in his squad for nine years and it didn't take a rocket scientist to read her actions. She'd gone into that situation distracted, angry….emotional. And it had cost her. Lucky it had just been the guy's fists that got her, and not a gun barrel.

Normally her gut gave her good instincts, ones that helped victims and tracked down perps. But lately he'd noticed a change…. she'd been edgy, distracted, and withdrawn. And after he'd gotten Fin to admit what she'd done….going after a perp alone, no weapon in hand…it was obvious that whatever was bothering her was serious. And from the way Elliot had acted the other day, it was contagious. But then again, the partners did have an unmistakable bond that extended beyond their case list.

He sat down at his desk and rubbed a hand over his face. The two of them were his best detectives, with only Munch and Fin a comparable second. Lake was pulling his weight, but he doubted he'd last in their unit much longer. He couldn't fire them…there was no way he'd have the patience to train two new rookies to take their place. There was one thing he could do…. even though it went against all rules and policy. He stared out at the two empty He replayed Elliot's outburst in his mind, thought of how Fin had described Olivia's actions. It was time to deal with this.

He reached for the phone.


	5. Chapter 5:Falling Down

Olivia half wondered if Munch really did enjoy the sound of his own voice, as he prattled on about everything from conspiracy theories to the fact that there was a reason why he always left the coffee tin empty. She smirked a little to herself about the coffee thing, as she knew that Elliot would be growling if he heard that Munch did it on purpose. But as he bounced into her mind for the thousandth time that day she winced, and not from the pain that throbbed in her head. She was glad he hadn't been with her today, to witness her accident. There would have been hell to pay if he'd watched her run into that alley without her weapon in hand, and no doubt would have pummeled the guy for throttling her. His job would once again have been thrown into question by the damned IAB, and he would have been right back in the pit.

But a small part of her liked the fantasy of him coming to her rescue, and despite the fact that she hated anyone thinking she wasn't in control; she smiled a little at the thought of him coming to her defense. One thing she could always count on, was that El had her back, and that was comforting.

"You better keep that cold pack on your eye if you don't want to wake up tomorrow looking like a prizefighter who lost." Munch commented. Olivia barely realized that her hand had dropped back to her lap as she stared out the windshield.

"Thanks." She murmured, lifting it back up to cover the shiner she knew was already dark and disturbing.

They reached her apartment building moments later and Munch slowly turned off the car. She opened her mouth to thank him but he was already getting out and walking around to her door. He bowed in a mocking manner as he opened it for her.

"My lady..."

Olivia couldn't help but chuckle as she got out, grabbing her bag. "Thanks John…. For everything."

The older man nodded. "Don't mention it. I know it sucks to be sent home by the Cap…makes you feel like you got suspended from school." He smirked a little then gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She nodded. "Ya, I'll be fine." As she fumbled to pull her keys from her purse, she missed John surveying the parked car in front of them. A slow smirk spread across the older man's face as he nodded toward the figure who was watching them in his rearview mirror. He turned back to Olivia.

"Call if you need anything."

&

She told him she would then walked up the stairs and let herself into the building. She closed the lobby door and watched as Munch drove away to return the sedan back to the precinct. While she'd enjoyed his company and the effort to make her feel better, he had been right about how it felt to be told to "go home". Normally she put in 10 to 12 hour days, sometimes several days straight. This was the first day that managed to only be 6 before she'd found herself back home. But the throbbing ache at the base of her skull and the dull pain around her eye reminded her that maybe her banishment was a good thing. Give her time to lick her wounds and for everyone in the 1-6 to forget just how foolish she'd been today.

Plodding up the stairs, she fumbled in her coat pocket for her keys. As she neared her floor, her vision suddenly narrowed. Taken off guard she stumbled forward, dropping her bag and her keys onto the steps where they tumbled back down to the previous landing. Swearing under her breath she straightened, but that only made the situation worse as the stairway suddenly felt as if it dropped away beneath her. She silently prayed that she wouldn't fall, even as she stumbled backward to where the stairway seemed an open mouth ready to devour her whole.

.

.

&

"Liv!" Elliot vaulted up the last few steps to catch his partner before she tumbled back down the stairs. Catching her back against his chest as she crumpled he grabbed the railing with his free hand to keep them both from going down. Quickly he regained his balance and tried to steady her, but her weight didn't lessen. Her head had fallen forward and for a moment he wondered if she'd fainted. Glancing down he noticed what looked like a bump on the backside of her skull, just where her short hair began to taper to her neck. _What the hell?_ His own heart thundered in his ears as he tightened his grip around her waist and awkwardly maneuvered them both to the few stairs left to her floor's landing.

"El? What are you… " Her voice was quiet and unsure as it faltered, two things that she seldom was and it sent a chill down his spine as he leaned against the wall and turned her in his arms.

Her hair had fallen forward into her face but as she lifted her head groggily, the full extent of why Cragen had called him suddenly became painfully clear.

"Sonofabitch….." Elliot swore under his breath as he surveyed her split lip and the lavender bruise that tinted her chin. Anger flooded through him like a tidalwave, making him suddenly glad that she was dizzy because if he hadn't been holding onto her he might have punched a hole in the wall. Her face was a mess of color, sickly ones that danced over her eye and then down her cheek where she'd been scraped up. He brushed her bangs out of her face gently trying to meet her eyes which she was stubbornly keeping fastened on his shirtfront.

"I'm okay….." she stammered. "It's all right." She pushed out the words, but the tremor in her voice belied their meaning.

"The hell it is Liv," he growled as he moved across the landing to gently lean her weight against the wall. Her shoulders slumped as she regained her balance against the wallpaper. He didn't miss the fact that she dropped her chin downward again, so her hair slid forward to hide her eyes. And a thought pierced him like ice…. _She was embarrassed? What the hell had happened to her today? _He suddenly began to kick himself that he'd taken the day off… that he'd been in such a hurry to get his affairs in order. _All that shit could have waited…_he thought_. She needed me….and I wasn't there. _

_After all these years….it happened the day I wasn't there._

Elliot swallowed over the growing lump in his throat and gently unfolded his hands from her upper arms. She didn't look up, as if she expected this. He stepped away from her slowly. "Don't move." He pushed the two words out.

This confused her and she finally looked up, at last letting him see into her eyes. "What? I'm all right….and…" she faltered as he gave her a stern look, barely able to hold himself in check as emotions whirled through his head.

"Just _stay_ where you are." He said, realizing that his voice had dropped in tone. As their gazes clashed he wondered, _would she run….would she yell at him?_ What would she do if she knew _how much_ he fucking meant that last sentence…..in particular….that _one_ word. **Stay**.

7

7

Olivia began to wonder if she'd actually fainted on the stairs and was lying there in a coma as she dreamed. Only in her fantasies did Elliot suddenly appear to catch her when she fell, only in dreams did her hold her close as he examined just exactly what she'd allowed that perp to do to her face. _It had_ to be a dream because as she'd finally looked at him in the hallway, finally met his eyes…something in that familiar blue had cracked and erupted as she'd watched. Something that she'd ached for … and as she heard his voice drop lower, when he commanded her not to move, she knew that it had to be a dream because she _actually obeyed_….as if his voice held total power over her. She'd never show that to him in reality, it was too raw, too obvious, and too telling of what she really felt.

She watched as he quickly jogged down the stairs to retrieve her bag and keys that had fallen. He returned quickly, barely glancing at her as he worked her key in the lock and opened the door. Then he turned to gently guide her into the apartment and towards her couch. She was afraid to say anything for a moment, letting him help her sit down. He moved back to shut the door and set the deadbolt, freezing momentarily in front of the door. She watched him curiously, clueless as to what would happen next. Her head still felt hazy but she wanted to know.

His shoulders were tense, she could tell from his posture that he was holding it all back, bottling up whatever was going on inside of him. She'd known him long enough to recognize when he was shutting down….even through her concussion she saw what he was doing. He was doing the same thing that he did whenever a victim got under his skin; whenever some dead blond girl reminded him of his daughters, or a little boy that laughed like Dickie was brought into the hospital…whenever it became too close to home….he shut himself down. Olivia was scared to think of what it meant that he was doing it now, and despite her sore face and pounding headache she wanted to help _him_.

"Elliot." She said his name into the quiet air, calling him back from wherever he was retreating. "Talk to me…"

He stiffened, not looking her way, still facing her locked door. "What do you want me to say Olivia?"

She winced as he used her full name, something that he normally only reserved for when he was either extremely worried about her, or undeniable angry, and in that moment she began to wonder if it was a combination of both. Her own temper flared underneath her lethargy. "Call me an idiot….yell at me if that's what you're thinking. I deserve it."

He still didn't move or turn his head toward her, but she watched as he drew in a deep breath, his eyes drifting closed. Her eyes fell to where his hands were clenched in fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening. If she was feeling more like herself, she would have feared what that meant, but in this moment she was too tired and dizzy to care. All she could think was that she was tired of the endless dance of evasion they seemed to be doing with each other. One step forward, one step back….two steps left, two steps right…all it ever did was keep them in place, never going forward.

Elliot felt something inside of him break as he heard her utter the words 'deserve it'. He lifted his fists, his first instinct to punch her door, to slam his fists into it until his knuckles broke, but instead he flattened his palms against it to steady himself. He knew that this wasn't the time to have it out with her. She was dealing with the symptoms of what looked like a concussion. What he should be doing was calling a bus for her, checking her into a hospital and giving the doctors strict orders not to let her out until she was well. But his blood roared in his ears as he realized that she thought she'd deserved whatever had happened to her today.

"God Liv, if it was up to me…you'd know how wrong you are." He heard himself whisper, finally saying aloud what was in his head.

He heard her breath catch and turned his head, opening his eyes. She was staring at him, her eyes glassy. His heart in his throat he moved to sit on her coffee table, facing her. His hand reached out to gently brush her uninjured cheek, then back into her hair where he let his fingers tangle into the soft strands. Her eyes drifted closed and she leaned into his touch. The gesture was all it took for him to decide that he'd wasted enough time being silent with her. As he noted her bruises, he realized how close he could have come to losing her today. If that perp had a gun on him, he could have found himself sitting beside a hospital bed watching ventilators breathe for her. The idea shook him to the core. _No more running_….for either of them. Enough was enough.

"Liv….if it were up to me…I'd show you exactly what you do deserve."

Her eyelids opened slowly to lock gazes with him. "What is that El?"

He wanted to kiss her, to grab her up in his arms and crush his lips against hers until she'd have no doubts left about exactly what he meant. But she was hurt, and there would time enough for passion later. But still he needed her to know.

"Love, Olivia. You deserve to be loved." He said softly, meaning every word.


	6. Chapter 6: A hint of truth

Part 6:

Olivia stared at him, unable to believe that the man who had shaken up her world for the last nine years had finally rocked it for the last time. But this time his words had finally set the planet back on its axis, setting upright all the things that had been knocked over and forgotten by the wayside. So many missteps and half truths muttered after too many beers and too many victims finally had led them here, to this place...to where Elliot was looking at her. Not past her, not behind her, not through her, but _right .in .her .eyes_.

Elliot Stabler was sitting in her living room, staring at her with those blue eyes that haunted her dreams. Looking at her like she finally had the power to set his universe in order too. Like everything in him was wrapped up in whatever answer she gave. Part of her brain taunted her, trying to tell her that this couldn't all be real, that it was a hallucination from her concussion.

"I've never ….I haven't…" She stammered, trying to find the right words to convey the deep ache in her chest that she'd carried nearly all her life. It had been planted by having a mother that never looked at her right, a mother that drank too much and placed too much responsibility on the shoulders of a little girl who'd only wanted her approval. It had grown through the years when she'd known the reason for her mother's apathy towards her, through all her failed relationships it had blossomed, and after she'd met Elliot Stabler and consequently fallen for him….that pain had grown thorns that tore at her soul until it became all consuming. What he'd just said….about what she deserved….that word_**….Love**_…he knew better than anyone that she'd never known what that was like.

"I know." Those two little words that rumbled from his throat found their way deep inside her, nestling into an empty place in her soul. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the pounding in her head that taunted her that this was all a cruel dream she would wake up from.

"Elliot…what are you saying to me?" She asked, keeping her eyes closed…afraid that if she opened them he'd be gone, that the moment would end. But as she held her breath she felt his fingers slide over her hands. So gently that his skin barely grazed hers, but still his touch trailed fire in its wake. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, it was all she could do not to moan at the tenderness that he graced her with.

"I'm saying that if you ever go running into an alley unarmed again, you have someone else to think about. I don't want you to ever think it doesn't matter…that **you **don't matter….and by hell I don't ever want to hear you say that you _deserve_ it again." Elliot's voice was heavy with emotion, his normal baritone dropping down to a raspy low tone. He gently covered her hands with his own, holding on.

That's when she felt something; something that nailed home everything that he was saying. Or rather she felt _the absence_ of something. His wedding ring. That band of metal was gone from his finger, leaving no cold warning to dull the sensation of his fevered touch on her hands. She finally allowed her eyes to open again, only to find shining blue depths waiting for her. Elliot was so close to her now that she could see nothing but his eyes, and Olivia thought that she'd never seen a more beautiful view.

He wanted to kiss her. His arms ached to hold her. There was so much he wanted to do, but the last thing he wanted was for their first kiss to be a memory tinged with pain from her injuries. So instead of following his screaming instincts he merely leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, cherishing her nearness. He felt her stiffen as she entwined their fingers, her index finger rubbing against the smooth empty spot where his wedding ring had been. He felt her stiffen in question.

"Liv," he sighed her name as he closed his eyes. "We let it go. It was never going to be what we hoped it would be. She knows. It was right this time."

Olivia felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She could feel that he was okay with it this time. The first time Kathy had left, he'd been a mess, not ready to let go, not willing to deal or admit defeat, so scared he'd lose his children, his family. But this time Elliot was different, he was calm, at peace with the words. She was thankful for this but a sudden wave of nausea interrupted the moment and she pushed him away.

"Liv?"

"El….I don't feel right…." She mumbled, clumsily rising and trying to make her way to the kitchen.

The intensity of what he'd been saying hung in the air and he knew he'd botched it. He hadn't said all of what he'd intended to, but her injured state suddenly took precedence in the situation as he realized that she was going to be sick. He jumped up to make sure she reached the sink without hurting herself and as she retched he yanked his cell phone from his coat pocket.

Panic chilled him as he rubbed her back with his free hand. This wasn't normal. He'd have expected it from her if she'd been drinking again today, but coupled with her bruises and her near brush with fainting on the stairs he knew that she needed a doctor, now. So, despite the fact that he knew her objection, he began to dial. Someone had to take care of her, lord knows she was too stubborn to admit that she was hurting. He was halfway through dialing Melinda when Olivia straightened and leaned back against him, her balance flagging. He wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her upright against him, dropping his phone onto the counter. Her back pressed against him and in any other circumstance he would have groaned at the softness of her body that seemed to fit perfectly against the hard planes of his own. He forced himself to focus on her medical state, versus the heat that her nearness generated.

"Who were you…" she started to ask but then slumped against him in a dead faint. Elliot felt a rush of panic fly through him as he quickly moved to bring his other arm under her knees and carried her back to the couch. This wasn't like when she'd swooned earlier, this time she was out completely and his skin prickled with tension. As soon as he had her lying down and had checked her vitals he ran back to his discarded phone and finished dialing.

Melinda picked up almost immediately. "Elliot?"

"Did you hear about Olivia?" He said quickly, talking quietly but keeping his eyes on her as she lay still.

"Yeah, Fin called me. Is she all right?" Melinda got right to the point, knowing that the sharp tone in Elliot's voice meant that his partner was anything but fine.

"No… she just threw up and then passed out on me. She's got a bump on the back of her head too…Something's really wrong." Elliot knew he was talking too fast, but let her read into it what she would, as long as she could help.

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "I'll bet she refused the checkup at the scene today?"

"I wasn't there, but I'm sure that's true."

"Where are you Elliot?"

"Her apartment."

"I'll be right there. She'll most likely be fine, but I know I'll feel better if I had a look at her." Melinda's tone clearly implied that it was not herself that needed reassuring as much as the flustered detective who'd called her.

"Okay."

"Just keep her comfortable, I should be there in about 20 minutes." Elliot could hear Melinda rustling around, grabbing her coat and her keys. He sat down in one of Olivia's kitchen chairs and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

"Okay." That one word seemed to be all he could say. He forced himself to say something else. "Melinda?"

"Yeah Elliot?"

"Thanks."

Melinda Warner had seen a lot of things in her lifetime. She'd seen dead bodies in almost every state of decay, murder scenes that were unimaginable, she'd watched a man get shot in front of her, had nearly been run over in a kidnapping negotiation, but as the door to Olivia's apartment swung open before she could knock, she found herself seeing something that she hadn't expected. Elliot Stabler, the brooding Irish cop that seemed so steady and unshakeable was standing there, dressed in jeans and a ratty sweatshirt, his light colored eyes rid rimmed and his face tired and creased with worry.

But then again, as she greeted him quickly and moved past him into the apartment, she should have known that something like this would happen eventually. It was no secret the tension that had long existed between the two detectives, it had been bound to come to a head sooner or later. And as Melinda caught sight of her friend on the couch, bruises covering a side of her face she sucked in a deep breath… she instantly understood Elliots' anguish. Being a doctor she knew that these bruises looked worse than they were, but they were garish, and coupled with the symptoms Elliot had described…it added up to a dramatic discovery.

Elliot watched as Doc Warner examined Olivia, and she didn't wake. Melinda said that she probably wouldn't and that rest and Tylenol would be the best thing for Liv until her symptoms lessened. After a bit she straightened up and shrugged her coat back on. She turned back to him where he stood leaning against the door frame.

"Do I need to mention that she shouldn't be alone for awhile?" Melinda regarded him with a knowing smirk.

Elliot shook his head. "I got it."

Melinda's smirk widened an inch into a smile as her gaze noted the thin tan line where his ring had been. She understood instantly. "Everything seems to happen at once doesn't it?"

Elliot let out a chuckle at her words. "Very true."

She nodded and opened the door to let herself out. "Keep her calm when she wakes up. Do not let her try to do much, and it's doctors orders that she's not to be at the station for at least a week."

Elliot nodded. "She got suspended already by Cragen, he's a step ahead of you."

"Good. She needs people in her corner." Melinda patted his arm. "We all do."

"Night Doc."

"Night Elliot."

After he watched Melinda walk to her car through the window, Elliot turned back to where Olivia still lay sleeping. He noticed that her boots were still on, as well as her jacket. He sighed and moved to her side, crouching quietly as he unzipped the shoes and removed them. Seeing no easy way to get her jacket off without moving her he thought for a moment. She wouldn't be comfortable on the couch long, and Melinda had said she'd sleep for a while. He moved to gently lift her back into his arms so he could carry her back to her bedroom.

As he walked softly, thanking God she didn't fully wake, he was struck by a thought that he whispered into her the stillness. "You touched me Liv, you brought me back the other day….and now you've ended up in my arms three times in the last 48 hours." She moaned quietly and he froze as he entered her bedroom. But she merely shifted in his embrace, her cheek rubbing against his chest. He relaxed and moved to lay her down on her bed, as he had the night before.

He removed her coat and gently laid her head against the pillow. She shifted, burying her face into the softness, her arm sliding up to hold the cotton close. He watched her for a moment and wondered how in the last eight years this woman had managed to activate feelings he'd never known he possessed. She seemed different as she slept, and he'd noticed that before. When she was awake she was all toughness and business, especially since most of the waking hours he spent with her were on the job. But he'd caught her sleeping on her desk or in the crib a couple times and he'd been struck then (just as he was now) by the fragility that infused her face when she was unconscious. It was as if she'd reluctantly succumbed to sleep, like it had ambushed her against her will. He ached to touch her, but forced himself away from the bed. He needed to do something, or he would end up pulling her against him and ravishing her for the remainder of the night.

He toed off his shoes and moved around the room quietly, taking in the spare furnishings of her bedroom. Kathy had had their house decorated so that the walls were busily papered and knickknacks adorned every shelf. Olivia's apartment was a stark contrast to that. Instead of knickknacks and framed children's artwork the only items adorning her dresser were her gun and badge; in place of jewelry boxes and vases of silk flowers was the simple smooth surface of wood, marred only by a thin layer of dust that suggested she hadn't spent enough time at home to notice.

Elliot smirked as he realized that the simply decorated space appealed to him much more. Much like the contrast that Olivia and Kathy had with each other. When he and Kathy had begun to grow apart she'd become someone that he had little in common with. She'd been a wonderful mother and while he would never question her devotion to their children, she'd become interested in things like decorating, socializing, and crafts while his only moments of free time he much preferred to spend resting or just watching the kids play in the yard. The busy wallpaper and junk everywhere always made him feel jittery and claustrophobic while Olivia's simple white walls and uncluttered surfaces allowed his vision to breathe as it moved around the room. He shook his head at the thought, she was so much like him…many things about her that appealed to him was mirror images of traits he saw in himself. She had been designed for him, every characteristic she possessed was either a mirror to his or the missing pieces to the holes in his puzzle; designed to fit together.

_Fit together…._ His groin tightened as he wondered what it would be like to kiss her…_Christ_….he groaned inwardly. He needed to get his mind off this tangent, urgently. He wandered over to the large framed collage that was displayed on the far wall of her bedroom. It was a mishmash of black and white snapshots, that he couldn't remember having been taken. He peered at the faces that filled the photos, Wong, Casey, Cragen, Munch, Fin, even Alex was visible in some of the older photos. She must have been adding to this project over the years and he tried for the life of him to remember when he'd seen Liv bring a camera into the precinct.

As his eyes drifted over the shot of the two of them together, his heart clenched as he remembered. It had been a few years ago, just before their encounter with Gitano had changed their lives forever. She'd been seated on his desk, a file in her hands while he sat in his chair watching her. Whoever had taken the shot had commanded their attention and for a brief second, now frozen in time, they had both grinned. His fingers came up to brush over the glass of the frame as he noticed this perfect photo of them was placed dead center, surrounded by all the others. Was it coincidence?

His stomach growled noisily and he grimaced, glancing back at the bed to make sure it hadn't woken her. He walked out of her bedroom and gently shut the door. He half wondered if he should go but then shook his head. Melinda had said that she shouldn't be alone. And besides that...He wanted to be there when she awoke.


End file.
